


Balance

by EndoplasmicPanda



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Origin Story, Pre-Canon, Warring clans period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoplasmicPanda/pseuds/EndoplasmicPanda
Summary: Locked in endless war, Hashirama Senju struggles to find his place amidst his wartorn clan. Should he follow in his father's footsteps, and live life as a warrior? Or should he be the harbinger of change, the wielder of nature itself?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A warning: this bad boy is *old*. I was still trying to figure out my style (and how to actually, like, write) when I wrote it, so it's definitely a bit rough around the edges. But it still holds a place in my heart, and I love the foundersverse, so here you go!

Streams of light fell from the sky over Fire Country, as if an artist dabbed the trees, skies and stone in green, blue, and white before painting the canvas over with a haze of gold. Whitewashed cascades of water tumbled from high archways and drifted into the air like the ethereal Goddess of the River herself. At night, the crimson beams of fading sunlight would dwindle and die, before beginning anew the next day, unending.

Life was simple in this small bubble of tranquility; change was a paradoxical constant, always flowing, but never diverging from one well-traveled path.

Until, of course, the clans moved in.

First, there was the Senju. They staked a claim of the forest for their own less-than-benevolent purposes, constructing a home for themselves from the woods like a cancer.

Then came the Uchiha, hot on the heels of their eternal rivals, pursuing a means to an end that was nearly as old as time itself.

Battle after battle began to rage under the treetops, and soon, the forests were fertilized by more than just decaying plant matter. Blood ran through the ever-marching river, blotting the clear water with sordid humanity, seeping into the stones on the banks with steadily increasing frequency.

War was hell.

And Hashirama Senju was caught in the middle of it. A progenitor of peace. A voice for the forest.

A beacon of light in an otherwise drab world.

Every opportunity he had, the mighty clan heir would sneak out of the gritty, unwelcome shackles of his race's age-old tradition and lunge headfirst into the beauty of nature; a beauty that nobody other than he could see.

Even his best friend, Madara, couldn't see it. And were it not for the trees and their beckoning embrace, Hashirama would have never met the stoic, prideful boy in the first place.

The Senju simply considered it to be one of the many gifts bestowed upon him by whatever strange entity had its neck stuck out for him. Even in the direst of situations, Hashirama could always count on the trees. They were resolute. They were steadfast. They were _life_.

And so it came to be that one day, one bright spring day, Hashirama Senju made a name for himself.

A name carved into the woods of the forest itself.

* * *

"Hey! Hey, Hashirama!"

The boy blinked out of his trancelike state, jumping to his feet as he did so. Pebbles cascaded from his clothing as they desperately clung to his form, hugging for dear life as he swiveled on his feet to face the source of the caller. "Madara?! Is that you? You're super early!"

The onyx-eyed boy skid to a halt, sending a plume of dust and stones into the air around him. Hashirama grumbled and dusted himself off, shaking his fist at the other boy in mock agitation. "Oi! Be careful! I'm not supposed to be out fighting in these. If Father catches me away from the compound again, I doubt I'd live past my fourteenth birthday. If my clothes are all battered up he'll know anyways."

Madara just smirked and shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest in haughty self-righteousness. He took a look at his peer's outfit and raised an eyebrow. "What, are you on your way to meet the daimyo? Why are you so dressed up?"

The Senju just frowned down at his ornate silk kimono in obvious disgust, crossing his arms across his chest as if in a feeble attempt to hide the repulsive cloth from view. "Clan affairs," he mumbled, knowing far too well that just saying that much alone would get him locked in the cellar for a week, were his father to find out.

Speaking of clan affiliations in an era where one could be gutted for simply being _affiliated_ with the Senju was not treated lightly. Especially not when the perpetrator just so happens to be the heir to the entire family's mantle. There was a reason Madara and Hashirama only knew each other's first names.

Madara seemed to understand the other boy's trepidations, and instead chose to walk to the nearby river's edge, grabbing a smooth, unblemished rock from its banks.

He sent it sailing away with the flick of his wrist, and watched as it careened through the air for a moment, before skipping across the surface like a raindrop on glass.

"Hey," he suddenly began, turning to meet dark eyes. "If you have clan affairs, why are you here?"

"Got bored. Didn't want to be there anymore. You know, the usual."

Madara let out a knowing hum and sat down on the rocky shoreline, resting his chin on his raised knees. With the palm of one hand, he absentmindedly sought out his next stone to be made a projectile. Satisfied in his choice, his gaze shifted across the river to the other side, where the light waves of current brushed against the banks.

He remained motionless when Hashirama moved next to him, plopping to the ground with a graceless sigh. "I really wish we could just do… _this_ all the time, you know?"

The raven-haired boy simply raised an eyebrow, before sending the pebble towards its destination in a blur of motion. "You know that isn't possible."

"I know. But I wish that it _was_."

The two children sat side by side, then, watching as the water lapped at their sandaled toes.

It was peaceful.

Then, suddenly, Hashirama froze.

Madara blinked and turned, observing the garishly worried expression on his friend's face. "What is it? Trouble?"

"Someone's coming," he whispered, eyes wide. "Uh oh. They must have figured out I left the meeting."

"Idiot. You should never have left."

Madara watched in mild amusement as Hashirama visibly deflated. "Yeah. Sure. I sneak out just to see you and you throw that one at me. Real typical. Thanks, Madara."

The other boy simply shook his head and rose to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Same time tomorrow?"

The Senju blinked in surprise, then beamed the brightest smile that Madara had honestly ever seen. Were his eyes any less incredible, he would have surely been blinded by its radiance alone. "Yeah! Absolutely!"

As Hashirama turned and began to make his way out of the clearing, Madara realized something. "Hey! Wait."

The other boy froze in confusion and swiveled on his heel, tilting his head slightly as he did so. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Madara narrowed his eyes in confusion. "How did you know someone is coming?"

"Well, that's easy! I just-"

Hashirama's eyes slowly slid open wider and wider, before his eyebrows clenched together across his forehead. "Y-you know, I never thought of that…"

Madara rolled his eyes, and continued making his way out of the clearing. After all, the spindly-haired boy _was_ always an odd one…

* * *

Hashirama twisted and turned under his bedsheets with a sigh, grumbling when his pajamas caught on the intruding fabric and twisted on his skin uncomfortably.

Finally, with one big huff, he flung himself forward, his comforter falling from his shoulders gracelessly into a pile in his lap. With a desperate fumble in the slight darkness, he reached for the small oil lamp on his bedside table, and quickly lit it with a flick of his wrist and a snap of his fingers. When his inflamed index finger caught the kerosene, a brilliant orange flame sprung to life within its glass casing, bathing the entire room in a warm, flickering glow.

He waited a moment for his vision to readjust, blinking off the remains of his drowsiness. As his gaze traveled across the room, he vaguely acknowledged the large bump in his brother's bed, underneath his sheets, where his brother should have been.

"Tobi, are you reading again?"

The blob started for a moment, before a long sigh echoed around the room and the covers were tossed aside. Another beam of light burst into view as Tobirama Senju, the second-oldest son of the current clan head, popped his neck, his snow-white hair matted in all different directions. He had a firefly lantern clutched in the hand not currently holding a book open on the bed beneath him, and was frowning across the room at his brother, who looked on amusedly.

"Yes, I am."

Hashirama blinked at the straightforwardness, then shrugged. "Okay. But you know how Father feels about that. He'd rather you further your studies through more practical means."

The stoic boy only raised an eyebrow. "Father does not understand that theory is what _leads_ to practicality. Were it not for the research done by our predecessors, we wouldn't _have_ jutsu to study mindlessly, without any sort of grasp of why the work the way they do."

The other boy simply shrugged, crossing his hands behind his neck and leaning back onto his pillow. "Yeah, that's true. But do you really think that we can learn more than we already know?"

After a few moments of silence, Hashirama frowned in confusion at the lack of response and turned to look at his brother again, who he found was simply _glaring_ at him.

"I think that I will simply disregard the fact that I just heard you say what I think you just said."

"What? I believe it, but a lot of the elders don't and even Father doesn't, to a certain extent. It's certainly something you're going to have to defend in the future. Why not now?"

Tobirama let out a small murmur, neither in agreement nor denial. Finally, after a few moments, he nodded. "I suppose."

"Well? What are you working on right now? And where do you keep getting those books, anyway?"

"I borrow them from the civilians that work in the compound. The shinobi have no need for them, and we have a very short supply in the first place. Many of those in our clan who have an interest in literature have already gone through them all several times now."

"Hmm," Hashirama grunted.

"Regardless, I am currently reading about the great Sages of the past."

 _This_ piqued the young heir's interest. "Oh? What have you learned?"

Tobirama began to rifle through the pages on the hunt for something in particular, before he frowned, and nodded. "It is interesting. Although not much is known about the legendary Sage of Six Paths, it _is_ known that he and his two sons had a very strong connection with nature."

"Interesting... a connection to nature?"

"Hmm," the boy replied, already lost in thought again. Then, a moment later, he flipped to the next page.

After his brother did not continue the conversation any further, back in the throngs of his book, Hashirama took it upon himself to keep their dialogue open. "Well… what kinds of connections?"

"Uncertain," was all Tobirama muttered, already flipping through the pages towards the back. Then, he blinked, and looked up at his brother, who has simply raised an eyebrow at his absent-mindedness. "Oh. Sorry."

"'s alright," Hashirama shrugged, settling back into his bed across the room. Their shared space wasn't much in size, although it was certainly much larger than it was before, when the same room was being shared by _four_ brothers.

The war had taken a little from everyone. The head family notwithstanding.

Another few heartbeats of somewhat uncomfortable silence blared in his ears, suffocating him in its roaring embrace. The subtle flicker of the lantern's flame moving through the air would occasionally break the silence, but it was subtle. Inconsequential.

"Hey, Tobi?"

"Yes, Brother?"

He paused for a moment, before asking the question that had been heavy on his heart for days. "Do… do you think there's a better world out there, waiting for us to find it?"

_SNAP._

The book was clapped shut immediately, and Tobirama turned on his mattress, raising an eyebrow. He had his full attention; that much was obvious now. "How do you mean?"

"Well…" Hashirama paused, trying to put the right words together. "…I mean, as in, we stop this cycle of hatred. The war, the killing, all that."

Tobirama let a microscopic smile grace his lips, a rare sign of emotion from the stoic and reserved boy. "Brother, that is all our world has ever known."

"Yes, but weren't you the one just telling me that we need to break tradition? Learn new things? Who says that has to stop at jutsu or methods of war? Why can we not focus on peace instead?"

A sigh was Hashirama's only indication that his brother had admitted defeat on that matter. "As delightful as that sounds, Hashirama, it simply isn't possible. If we stop fighting, the others certainly won't."

"What? The other clans?"

"Hmm."

"What… what if I talk to them? I'm going to be clan head someday, so it's not completely out of the question!"

"Hashirama," the white-haired boy suddenly interrupted, his voice resolute. "You know as well as I do that I would like nothing more than to stop fighting. But as long as evil exists, as long as the bastard Uchiha are after our throats, we have to strive to overcome."

"I know! You're not understanding me."

"I'm understanding you just fine. You're-"

"No, I'm not! What I'm saying is, there's more than one way to go about this! Why do we _have_ to fight the Uchiha? What unspoken law is preventing us from carving another path?!"

" _Survival!"_ Tobirama hissed, tossing the book aside and leaping to his feet. "This is more than just you, Hashirama. You _must_ remember that."

Hashirama jumped to his feet as well, and nearly growled. "It's just an idea, okay?! Nothing has been set in stone."

His brother merrily raised an eyebrow.

Then, he smirked.

"I suppose that you'll need someone to do the logistics, then," he sighed, turning back to his bed. "As ridiculous as your plan sounds, Brother, I know better than most that it will take a Tailed Beast to stop you from achieving your goals. I can't convince you otherwise, so… when the opportunity arises, Hashi, know that I have your back."

The Senju heir was awestruck. "Did… did you…"

"Yes, I did. Now go back to sleep. If you had actually attended the family meeting this afternoon, you would have known that the Hyuuga are most likely attempting to claim one of our freshwater supplies for themselves. There is a good chance tomorrow we will be forced to fight."

Hashirama snorted. "Heh, oh yeah. You're not gonna tell anyone that you found me in the woods when the meeting was supposed to be going on, are you?"

A moment of silence. So long, in fact, that Hashirama nearly expected that his brother had fallen asleep.

"As long as you don't tell Father I was reading again. I would prefer not to have to do hundreds of katas I already know as punishment tomorrow."

* * *

A seed of doubt nestled its way into Hashirama's mind as the days went by. The candlelit conversation he had with his brother that one fateful night was still clear as crystal in his head, rattling about like poorly mounted armor.

He had the backing of his brother. He _almost_ had the backing of his best friend.

But how would he put things into motion?

He supposed that the easiest course of action would be to wait until his father stepped down, or, more likely, was killed in battle. It was a morbid thought, but one that had to be considered in situations such as these. There were simply too many unknowns in their world.

Yet another reason to change it, Hashirama reasoned.

But his mind began to drift to the earlier topic of conversation that he had begun and hopelessly floundered on: nature.

It was no secret that Hashirama preferred the company of the trees to many of his own clan, for reasons no more complicated than that they were overbearing and terribly patronizing. He _was_ the clan's heir, after all. There were some mighty shoes to fill, once the time finally came.

Until that time, though, he was merrily a boy, trying to change the world.

Where does one even start?

So, he found himself sitting in the woods one warm summer afternoon, as usual. A warm rock was his perch, granting him visage over a sizeable portion of the forest around him, watching as the water from the Naka River bubbled and cooed across the landscape. It was incredibly peaceful, incredibly thought-provoking…

"Hello."

And, apparently, incredibly hallucination-inducing.

Hashirama whirled around in surprise, expecting to see one of his fuming clansmen standing behind him, arms crossed and foot tapping on the ground impatiently. It was a familiar sight; he never seemed to get used to the guilt of being caught away from the compound, however.

But, much to his surprise, there was nothing there.

An amused chuckle echoed across the clearing, ricocheting off of the tree trunks like the wind. It was a gentle laugh, one rooted in amusement rather than malevolence. Still, that did nothing to calm the boy's nerves.

"Wh-who are you?" he blurted out, still twirling around on his boulder. After a few moments of silence, Hashirama trepidatiously lowered himself back down again, and began to listen to the steady hum of the forest all around him.

"Your name is Hashirama, is that correct?"

The boy jumped again, his eyebrows scrunching in surprise once again. "Hey! Where are you?"

"Oh!" The voice suddenly said, before a heavy wind whipped through the clearing, thrashing Hashirama's short-cut hair around like a ragdoll.

Then, there was a man.

"Better?" he said with a small smile.

Hashirama blinked, and jumped back again. "Whoa! Where did you come from!"

The man simply shrugged, eyes not focusing on any one thing. "Oh, nowhere in particular." He smiled again. "It is splendid to finally meet you."

The Senju narrowed his eyes at the figure, trying to place a name to a face. A face, which, surprisingly, was nearly completely transparent. Only the harshest outline of his features was visible; a long, white, flowing robe ran across his body, hiding most of the man's physical features from view. A thick white bandanna was tied around his forehead, girdled on each side by a bundle of tied-off bangs. His eyes were narrow and wise, but still, somehow, full of contained mirth that bubbled to the surface every time he spoke. He looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, much to the boy's surprise.

Most shinobi didn't live to be that old.

"Who are you?" Hashirama suddenly asked, a slight tinge of fear on his lips.

"I…" The man appeared to pause and think for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "My name is inconsequential." He smiled that sweet smile again. "I mean you no harm, however."

They stood in abject silence for a few moments, each surveying the other.

"Uhh… I don't mean to be rude, but… what do you want with me, exactly?"

The man blinked, before nodding and resting his hands behind his back. "Yes. Of course. My apologies."

He narrowed his eyes. "I am here to see you on your way."

Hashirama frowned. "I… I'm sorry?"

"You are young, yes," the man continued on, slowly walking in a rough circle around the stone, occasionally stealing glances of the young Senju boy out of the corner of his eye. "But you are determined. In that regard, we are the same."

He paused, turning to face Hashirama completely once again, a small chuckle breaking through his lips. "Of course, were you to dig deeper, you would find that we have much more in common than meets the eye." The man gave him a small wink at that.

"I… I don't understand."

"You are not the first, nor are you the last," the man continued on poetically, moving in his circle once more. "But you are the beginning of the end, in a manner of speaking. Your dream, your… _ambition_ , is incredibly valiant. It must not be seen laid to waste by the hands of indecision and time."

Hashirama pursed his eyebrows together in a knot above his nose, pondering the man's words as best he could, before nodding. "I see. So you want to help me."

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the man hummed. "It will be more to the tune of you helping _yourself._ "

"How… how do I do that?"

The man stopped again, lowering his eyes to the ground as he did so, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Well, that is the question, isn't it?"

More silence.

"There is a certain harmonious… _calm_ to nature, is there not?" he suddenly asked, turning to look up at the treetops bursting into the sky. "Beauty in simplicity. In balance." He sighed wistfully. "I certainly miss it."

His eyes lowered back down to meet Hashirama's own. "Luckily, I suppose that in a way, I don't have to." Another knowing grin played across his lips, before he nodded once, turned on his heel, and began to walk away.

"W-wait! I thought you said that you were going to help me! Err, that _I_ was going to help me!" Hashirama called out desperately. "None of this makes any sense!"

"I have already given you all you need to know," the voice echoed across the clearing once more. "You are the future, Hashirama Senju. The _future_ 's future. See to it that balance is maintained."

And then, he was gone.

* * *

"Brother? What are you doing?"

"Hmm… wh-what? Tobi, what are you doing here?"

Tobirama raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his striped tank top. "You have been gone for hours. What have you been doing?"

Hashirama blinked, and stretched, looking around at his surroundings groggily. He must have fallen asleep after his strange encounter with the transparent man, because the sun was beginning to dip beneath the treetops, bathing the forest in a warm, dark haze.

"Must've fallen asleep," he mumbled with a yawn, smacking his lips as he leapt from his seated position on the rock. "What're you doing here?"

The ivory-haired boy raised an eyebrow again, threatening to send it crawling into his hairline. "Hashirama, do you know what time it is?"

Something in the boy clicked, as if his internal clock began to grind back into action again, and he shot completely awake. "Oh. Oh crap."

"Hmm," Tobirama murmured in agreement, turning around and leaving the clearing once he was satisfied that his brother realized the severity in his actions.

"Is father angry?"

"Father has been… busy this afternoon. He does not know yet."

"Oh." Hashirama let a deep sigh rumble past his lips, as he relaxed slightly. "That's a relief."

The other boy stopped walking, and looked back where his brother was still sitting, an eyebrow twitching as he did so. "Brother, he will return any minute now. You have very little time. We must be on our way back."

"…Tobi? Can I ask you a question?"

A head of white hair bobbed a little with a sigh. "I suppose. Just hurry up."

"Brother, what is balance?"

Tobirama froze, eyes rising in confusion. "I… I'm not sure I understand the question."

With a sigh, Hashirama rolled himself off of the boulder, walking with a slow gait towards the trees that spanned the perimeter of the clearing. When he approached one in particular, he rested his palm across its bark, feeling the smooth, yet somehow calloused texture beneath his skin.

"I… I think I'm close to something, Tobi. I just am not quite sure what."

"Is that what you have been doing out here? So far from home every day?"

The black haired boy gave a small grin, and shrugged. "I suppose. Instead of sticking my nose in a book like you do, I tend to come out here and do things the old fashioned way, I guess."

Tobirama frowned. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Have you ever heard of anyone being able to sense living things from long distances, Tobi?" Hashirama suddenly blurted, stepping back towards his brother with a spring in his step. "Is… is that even possible?"

The other boy's mouth slipped open slightly as he pondered the barrage of questions, trying to parse through them with as much thought as he could manage. "I… I suppose? It was rumored that close followers of ninshuu, the religion founded by the Sage of the Six Paths, but… well, a religion is not really the best way to describe it-"

"Wait," Hashirama breathed, "So it _is_ possible? I'm not just seeing things? Hearing things?"

"I… I don't…" Tobirama floundered, before sighing deeply and pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Brother, we must be on our way back. Father is going to be very angry if _both_ of us are gone, even if I told one of the servants where I was going."

"The question is, then," Hashirama continued, as if he hadn't heard his brother at all, " _How_ does balance work with nature? What kind of connection does that have with the forest?"

"Are… are you serious?" his brother muttered, eyebrow cocked ever so slightly in surprise. "You _are_ aware of the life cycle, the water cycle, the balance of chakra-"

"Chakra balance? What kind of chakra balance?"

Tobirama blinked slowly, before shaking his head and walking back into the clearing. It was evident this was going to be an ordeal, that much was certain. "Yin and yang, do you not remember? Although that's not entirely how it works-"

"Explain it? Please?"

"Now, Hashi? Of all times?"

"Yes!" He was _so close_.

Another sigh. "Alright. Sit down again. This will take a while."

* * *

More months passed, and still Hashirama struggled. His encounters with Madara became fewer and further between, bathed in tension and slightly aggressive at times. Still, Hashirama made every effort possible to connect with his friend, forgoing as much or as little of his clan life as necessary.

Life was… complicated for the boy, as that boy slowly turned to man.

Time passed, days blew past like a wistful summer breeze. Tensions rose, and soon, a breaking point manifested itself on the horizon, as foreboding and melancholy as anything.

Hashirama watched as both his family, and Madara's family, whom Hashirama had suspicions of, began to quarrel more than ever before - if brutal bloodshed could be misconstrued as a mere quarrel.

Uchiha struck against Senju, and Senju struck against Uchiha. Each ebbed and flowed like the tides, victories overturning defeats overturning victories. An endless cycle, locked in time…

Out of _balance._

Balance, which he had spent so much of his free time trying to understand. The strange man's words from many months prior still rang out in his head, egging him towards an unseen goal – one he hoped, desperately, would help him end the conflicts of his world, before…

Before it was too late.

He spent many hours with his brother, behind closed doors, in secret. Hashirama would present bold, brash new ideas, and Tobirama would, rightfully so, shoot them down, one by one, until they weren't bold or brash any longer. Their father, more entrenched in politics than ever before, mostly left them to their own devices, which suited the brothers just fine. One was satisfied his goal would eventually be reached, and the other was simply happy to be become a better study in the process.

He still met with Madara, but kept his activities a secret. Hashirama validated himself by promising he would tell the prideful boy everything, in the event he proved successful.

Unfortunately, however, after months upon months of secrecy and books and experimentation, he had gotten nowhere.

He wasn't even sure what it was he was trying to do anymore. He remembered _balance,_ but of what? Nature? No. That was too broad… too general.

And so, instead of suffering in his failure, Hashirama relished in this opportunity to test himself, bathing in the warm sun one brisk autumn afternoon. Meditation was his solace; his escape to individuality. Even in the forest, where life rattled and hummed asymmetrically to the steady rhythm of time, he found peace in it. It soothed him, kept him resolute in his goals.

A bird called from across the woods, dancing from treetop to treetop, singing into the air. His time was almost near; his fellow kin had begun taking to the skies for their journey south to avoid the moderate Fire Country winters, and soon he would be joining them. Hashirama smiled at the thought. Change encompassed all things, and a healthy reminder on occasion did him more good than he realized.

Without thinking of it much, he imagined seeing the bird in his mind's eye, to observe its caterwauling from the vantage point of his imagination.

But something _different_ happened.

It was as if the entire world was zoomed out, everything - living and otherwise - fusing together into one uniform sphere of life. He could feel every creature, every leaf, every breath of wind as it whipped through the trees. The bird became clear as a photograph in his mind… except it was less his mind, and more like a sixth sense; another ability to _see._

The world had been opened up to him.

And as soon as it was, it was slammed shut around him.

Hashirama gasped as the residual feeling of being… _one_ , with _everything_ , bombarded his traditional senses like an avalanche. His vision was spinning, the earth tumbling around his irises in an uncontrollable rotation.

He _had_ it. He was _sure of it_.

But his concentration had slipped, and he was back at square one.

With a deep breath, the Senju heir collected himself and focused again on the steadiness of the forest around him. He felt it coming this time, much slower and more controlled than before. The feeling washed over him like a warm breeze, bathing him in the energy of the forest once more.

Experimentally, he reached out for the same bird as before, only to discover it had disappeared. The mild surprise was almost enough to shatter his concentration again, but he held firm against the feeling of nausea that threatened to break him free of this… _euphoria._

Then, he felt the bird elsewhere, chirping and chattering as if nothing had happened. And to the bird, nothing _had_ happened.

But to Hashirama, the world, the _true_ world was just revealed.

And it was magical.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! So this is a reupload from my FFN account - I want to host more of my smaller projects here so I can make way for the larger stuff.
> 
> This came about after I got a sudden wave of inspiration about a year ago about how Hashirama could have potentially awoken his Mokuton - and how it had never really been touched upon in canon. (Yeah, yeah, I know - me and everyone else, right?) I decided to try my hand at it, and this came about. It's very different from my current style, but I'm still for the most part happy with it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
